Not Quite the Opposites (camren)

4 - We Welcome Change for the People It Brings

Lunch time.

Momentary freedom.

I had actually survived half of my first day and I am being dramatic, seeing as it was Saturday tomorrow, and I'd be left to my devices. Plus, there's the part where I only have one last class the period following the one after lunch.

I'd always felt as if school days were heavy bags I'd strapped over my shoulders and the farther I went, the heavier it got. I persevere anyway, even if the sweat trickling down my body were magnanimous beads that drenched me all over.

But if I had a choice, I would have ditched that thing. Well, granting I'd get a future without a high school diploma.

I joined the sea of students that I would have called a ginormous school of fish that were congregated along the hallways. Most had a general direction leading to the cafeteria while the rest of the unfortunate ones dragged their feet into their next classes; seemingly burdened by a useless limb.

I wasn't interested in any of them, of course.

Now, where did Camila go?

I made do with my average height, pushing myself up to the toes in the hopes of finding her. I have no specific idea why but I knew I wanted to find her. I don't quite know what to tell her after "hello". That is, if I don't pretend to casually bump into her.

My soul reacts to her; breathing life to it and making me realize that there are far more exciting things in the world that I have not explored just because of her presence. There seemed to be some sort of psychedelic thrill that would seep through my veins when she's around.

It's a gravitational pull really and I'd willingly let gravity tug me to her. I could pretend to be fighting against it, though I'd relish in the fact that it'd be futile.

My all too sudden kinship towards a friend reaffirmed my qualms about my relationship with Gavin. It was probably time to let him go. And having to do it over the phone or any other medium but face-to-face seemed a little disrespectful.

But if worse come to worst, I'd be forced to just call him, and get it done and over with.

For now, while my feelings towards Camila are confined in the realms of innocence - I am giving him a chance to redeem himself, and another push for me to try and love him back. I desperately hope it'd work this time.

My search was interrupted by a finger that relentlessly prodded my shoulder, digging onto my skin and dared the vile creature that is anger to poke out of me.

There was only one person I knew who had the audacity to do something that I specifically said irritated me. Even if I wanted to lash out or rip his head off and put it back on later when I'm in a better mood, I couldn't.

We were in public. Nobody needed to see momentary sibling rivalry. Apart from that, I wouldn't want Clara Jauregui's death glare aimed at me. Hers was far more intimidating than mine and then, there's my conscience. Seeing disappointment in my mother's eyes is quite painful and the twinge in my belly might as well twist my insides into a tight knot.

Besides, I was more overtaken by the relief from finally bumping into him just so I could personally see how he was doing.

"Hey, sis!" Chris smiled smugly, noticing my enraged features. He stood back and managed to cross his arms as if waiting for me to implode and bless him with my guts splattering all over the hallway. "What's up?"

"My temper." I narrowed my eyes at him in warning, pointing a stern finger at my amused brother. "Stop that."

Despite the struggle, Chris managed to bite on his lips to prevent them from stretching further; in turn, mocking me even more. He raised his hands in surrender, ducking his head slightly.

I think I did him a favor by stopping him from smiling more. It'd save his cheeks from being sore.

You're welcome, Chris!

"Are you going to get lunch?"

"No, I have geometry in a bit." Chris lifted the book he had in his right hand, wriggling it before my eyes to direct my attention to it.

I observed his features, quietly looking for signs to see if he'd been having a hard time adjusting to the new school. I needed to see if I could pick out the truth before I asked him the question that I'd been meaning to.

Chris had the tendency to keep things to himself and even when he's struggling. He'd insist on defusing the problem on his own before he considers talking it out to us. Because of that, he would practically debilitate us, prevent us from doing something to help.

"Are you okay here?"

"Yeah, dude. This is my favorite out of the places we've been in." Chris' face broke out into a wide smile, showing off his set of porcelain, much to my relief. "I have friends from the volleyball team. They want me to come to their next practice."

The fact that we never stay in a place for a really long time should damper his excitement. We've all been here before; opportunities banging at our locked door. No matter how relentless, there was no way we could pry it open with out situation. As disheartening as it is, we still follow Clara around and send those opportunities away as if they're the most disgusting creatures that ever came near us.

Chris should have been expressing his deep grievances about our situation but my brother seemed to be living in an illusion that Miami might become our permanent home again just because it used to be.

As much as I'd hope for it to be the case, I knew it was almost impossible.

I wanted to play softball, too. I wanted to try the normal life again. And if I'm being honest, I wanted to see where my feelings for Camila would go.

At this point in my life, with a multitude disappointments, it felt as though hope is taboo.

"Chris..." I sighed, reaching to brush my fingers through my hair. Frowning, I looked at him pleadingly, an attempt to coax him out of it before he reached the heights of hope with the most painful drop. "Season opens in the spring and if mom gets relocated again..."

"I know. I know. I know that. They know that." Chris explained, clapping his free hand over my shoulder and looked into my eyes with that oddly calm smile that almost had an undertone. "Just a couple of friendly games to keep me busy during the weekends. It'll keep me out of trouble. I promise."

"Fine. Fine." Relenting, I shook my head - willing my gripping concerns away.

At least, his priorities were straight.

There was so much that I could have said – a lot of caution would have been the first. I knew what it's like to have high hopes but it had pushed me to be friends with consuming disappointment. In fact, I may be dating it.

I was forced to trust that my brother knew what he was doing. It seemed like he did. If anything, he looked like he had come to terms with an ephemeral lifestyle that I'm still trying to adjust to.

Chris seemed to be doing everything he could to enjoy it, while I burdened myself with overthinking and dreaming of things I couldn't have. In turn, I may have overlooked what mattered more than anything.

There were so much to say and so many things to discuss but the warning bell had a different idea, leaving me no choice but to send my brother away.

"Go." I pushed him by the chest, sending him a step back. "I don't want you to be late."

Chris chuckled and never failed to give me another of his haughty grins. He could look like the most arrogant little s**t if he wanted to but he's a really nice guy. He's an incredible son, too.

"I'll see you later, sis."

-

In a deserted corner, I spent lunch alone as I have always been inclined to do. Some people join me when they see me; that is if they see me.

I liked it this way, anyway.

I find meager gossip to be a waste of time; especially since I don't know 95% of the entire population. They could be talking about a girl called Amy and they'd mock the way she dressed or spoke, while I dumbly smile and pretend to have understood them.

I personally think the reason why feminism will never fully be achieved is because girls often hate on other girls. Yeah, let's fight for these girls while degrade others. It's very productive.

I blocked the roaring incomprehensible chatter from students around the cafeteria with music from The Script's self-titled album. I banged my head to the sound of the drums in Nothing and finished the sandwich Mike packed for me to get that out of the way.

It was a little tedious just thinking about studying to keep up with Miss Dubose and A.P. Environmental Science - the class I missed and the teacher might give a pop quiz the following week according to hearsay. I have the weekend to study, I convinced myself.

And so, I settled for another attempt at reading Shakespeare's narrative poem.

I lingered on line 10, reading and rereading everything just to get a better grasp of the word compositions and what they mean. It was the same struggle the second time around as far as my old English comprehension is concerned.

It was like learning the language all over again where I'll need illustrations and hand gestures, and whatnot to understand the words.

I felt quite inadequate.

Camila did point out how graphic the poem is, and I barely managed to grasp onto her explanations as I kept finding myself staring at her like an awestruck, brainless dummy. Unfortunately, she had to abandon our little tutoring session to complete the math homework she conveniently forgot to do.

I fought the raging urge in the atoms that make up my existence to keep myself from dragging her attention back to me; and my resolve would have taken every prisoner it could get its hands on.

Gavin might have not quite understood what I meant when I said I love to read. I definitely do but I'd like modern takes on the language, where I didn't have to search for their meanings on the internet or a certain brunette that I could not quite shake off.

"Hi Lo!" Camila exclaimed merrily and unexpectedly, popping her head right behind the sheet of paper just as Danny O'Donoghue hit the bridge. "-ren." She continued with a very satisfied grin, exposing a youthfulness in her features.

Camila was bent to 90 degree angle, tucking her hands behind her back while they held a sweating water bottle.

Speak of the pretty little devil.

My heart exploded, rattling my chest as I looked up to see her attempting to keep a straight face. Camila was waiting for my response, casually batting her long lashes adorably.

Mindlessly, I let go of the sheet I was holding and peeled my earbuds off as I held her gaze, deliberately drowning myself in those velvety chocolate eyes. By doing so, I'd welcomed the noise that hovered around the cafeteria, drowning my sense of hearing - deafening me with a piercing ring.

But that wouldn't have taken my attention from Camila.

There was a steady tug at my lips as I lifted my brows inquisitively at her, daring her to speak up. There was only so much I could do to hold back a laugh, and I found myself biting onto my lower lip. By the looks of it, my lip-biting didn't quite seem that innocent.

I could have done that one purpose.

Camila seemed to have the same idea as me, and instead of talking, she settled onto the chair across, taking the seat that would be directly facing the crowd of students that I was trying to ignore. But now, it was a war and whoever laughed first loses.

"See what I did there?" Camila rhetorically asked - voice riddled with pride at the juvenile jab she had done.

High and low. Hi, Lo.

"Uh...huh." I confirmed in a skeptical tone, rocking my brows at her to provoke her into surrendering.

My strategy seemed to work.

Soon enough, Camila's goofy laugh surfaced - toppling every other noise that overwhelmed me. My heart could feel it reverberate and it seemed to quiver in response to the beautiful sound. The small corner we sat in, around the rectangular four-seater, bounced with glee as I basked in Camila's bliss.

It's a beautiful feeling; to be happy because of another person's happiness.

Camila's laugh is so contagious, and I couldn't help but let go and laugh along with her. It was hard to decipher whether or not she was struggling to breathe with her intermittent gleeful noise. But if it stood for anything, it was her carefree, gentle aura and I seemed to crave it.

"How'd you know it was me?" I asked as soon as we both settled, gasping for air as if it would run out at any moment.

And still, I wore a relentless, involuntary grin that was a default setting with having Camila near.

I would normally have that loud voice in my head complaining about the shallow conversation Camila and I were about to have. But for some reason, I wanted it and if it would end up boring, then I wanted to be bored.

Small talk just never appealed to me. Most of the time, people don't mean it when they ask how you're doing. They use it merely as a filler to prevent awkward silence from dawning over them instead of just leaving.

I may be a little cynical. Sue me.

Actually, don't.

"I did a couple of looking until I was sure." Camila explained, ducking her head to hide the small, guilty smile upon her lips.

By her body language, I could tell she was a little embarrassed. She was cautious of my reaction without knowing she had nothing to feel awkward about.

Heck, I was looking for her. I should be embarrassed, when she could have merely stumbled upon me.

I was looking for you, Camila! But I will never admit that to you. At least, not yet.

As I leaned back, lured into my thoughts, I unconsciously memorized how she looked in that instant.

Camila was in a casual sleeveless blouse fastened by shiny silver buttons and jeans that complemented her enviable legs. Her shiny, softly curled tresses were neatly tucked with a headband that had a little black bow to the side.

I felt myself smiling with each movement of her lips and the narrowing and widening of her eyes that danced with her brows as she animatedly spoke. Her whole body would portray the thought she's trying to describe.

I couldn't have imagined myself in that position days, weeks, months, or even years prior. I had never been as infatuated by someone. Perhaps, I never allowed myself to.

In an instant, I was made aware of my choices. I could have missed out on wonderful human beings just because we got off on the wrong foot. But then again, if I was ever meant to share my life with anyone as friends or lovers, won't fate have found a way for us to be together?

And being 18, I felt as though I allowed myself to explore and step over the line that had been keeping me in place. It was just that I hadn't come across Camila until now.

In my 14 years in Miami, we'd never stumbled upon a serendipitous moment where she could have bumped into me and I'd be instantly taken by her smile. It took us 18 years to meet but it might have taken that long for both of us to be ready for whatever it is that we were supposed to overcome.

And suddenly, I began to fear it.

"Still reading Venus and Adonis, are we?" It sounded a little too suggestive from my perspective but to Camila, it might be nothing but an innocent joke or simply an observation.

My cheeks were getting warmer, feeling a little embarrassed that she caught me the second time. And without explanation, my intentions were left to her opinions.

That was a little unnerving.

I was a little too flustered to even orate anything without rambling like a guilty suspect. And instead of answering her question, I simply returned it with another question while I slowly folded the piece of paper and tucked it away on the table beneath my phone.

"Did you finish the math homework you conveniently forgot?" Folding my hands together and setting them upon the table, I raised challenging brows and narrowed my eyes at her, trying to appear disapproving.

"Did you like the poem so much you read it again?" Camila mirrored my haughty smile and added the brow movements. She knew she made a good comeback.

Needless to say, we ended up bellowing like hyenas again; our childish laughter congregating to isolate us further from the rest of the world.

"I happened to get a B+, new girl." Camila sat up straight, basking in the glory that should have probably been pouring down her head; arrogantly looking at me. She leaned closer to the table, holding her weight on her elbows. Her brown eyes then moved from side to side, as if suspecting everyone of eavesdropping. "I'm actually really smart." She whispered jokingly with a dramatic flair.

I found myself staring at her, captivated by her beauty. Within my trance, I was unknowingly moving closer to her. And if I had to estimate the distance separating us, I'd say it'd be too close and too tempting to...

I am not going there.

Nope. I can't.

The thought of it wreaked havoc within me, whirling around my body and agitating every fiber of my being. It awakened a certain desire, a craving.

I've done so many things I've regret and something as wild an idea as...kissing Camila sounded so exhilarating. And yet, it never came off as something I would be remorseful of. On the contrary, I'd regret my lack of bravery.

Thankfully, I had enough self-restraint to prevent myself from making any crass decisions that Camila might not appreciate. I'd probably be less careful if I was single and if I was sure that Camila was at least, bisexual or curious.

Yes, Lauren, you're not single and you will not cheat - more like, not cheat any longer with your thoughts.

I began to lower my gaze from her hairline, to her playful eyes, her pointy nose, her full lips and down to the faint dimple in the middle of her chin. All the while, I maintained an amused grin just to be less suspicious. Although, I'd assume I looked like I was daydreaming or hungrily staring, and I hope it was the former.

I wasn't being obvious, right?

"I hope you know you're a dork, too." I quipped, dropping my chin slightly.

"Oh, she knows." A laugh-ridden voice said amusingly, genuinely enjoying Camila and my banter.

I could remember her voice quite well, and my gratitude preceded me - making a smile explode on my lips. Camila and I looked up to find the petite lady beaming brightly as us.

"Ally! Hi!" I was surprised but unsurprisingly happy to see her. "Thanks for somehow convincing Mr. Moore to let me sit down. It was getting a little unnerving to just stand there."

Springing up to my feet, I contemplated on whether I should hug or not. Thankfully, she made the decision, herself. Ally grabbed me by the shoulder and wrapped me in the warmest embrace. It wasn't the longest but it was one of the most heartfelt hugs I have ever experienced.

"Oh, that." Ally waved her hand dismissively; scrunching her nose in disapproval. "That was nothing. You're welcome. I wanted you to calm down a little. You looked like you were about to explode." She chuckled, glancing at me and then the slyly grinning, Camila.

Alarmed, Ally suddenly took a sharp breath, swiftly whirling her head to look behind, where two other girls stood. They seemed quite giddy and their restraint were wearing thin.

"Oh! Right! These are Dinah..." Ally stepped to her right to reveal a tall Polynesian with fiery red hair and then stretched her arm further to the girl beside her, a fit and radiant African-American proudly wearing her blue tresses "...and that's Normani. Ladies, this is Lauren."

All the while, Ally maintained her grin. She might just be able to smile through anything and with her porcelain, she had jut completed the American flag with her friends' colored hair.

The pair had exquisite taste in clothing and their mere presence demanded attention without the need for them to speak. Both oozed with confidence, an overwhelming amount of it but they never suffocated me with nerves as both of them were all smiles, Dinah even giggled.

Just like Ally, the two yanked me towards them and encapsulated me in a hug; leaping in glee. The gesture made me feel liked among the girls. And even if I found myself a little different from them, they made it seem alright and that it never mattered to look...like me in a sea of fashion forward ensemble.

Through the corner of my eyes, I found Camila standing as I slowly pulled back, exchanging smiles with Dinah and Normani. We were all silent, even Ally; only watching where Camila was headed to and what she wanted to do.

Camila sauntered over to a stack of plastic chairs, taking the top one with noticeable struggle and brought one over to our table. She dragged the object by its hind legs. The friction caused a subtle scratching noise against the linoleum and we all quietly observed her movements until she came to a stop, situating the seat at the head of the rectangular table, next to mine.

"Why don't we all sit?" Camila suggested, looking at us expectantly with an adorably serious expression.

"Well, hello to you too, Mila." Normani feigned offense, crossing her arms and expectantly staring at Camila. "Nice of you to acknowledge us."

"At least, she offered us seats." Dinah scrunched up her face in approval, following Normani's lead. "Technically, she didn't but, girl, I'm not going to stand here any longer."

Camila rolled her eyes, groaning at her friends. Her reaction earned giggles from both Normani and Dinah, who did not have it in them to calm down. They stumbled to their seats, holding onto each other to keep themselves from toppling over while Ally shook her head in disapproval. It may have looked like she was willing laughter away more than anything.

Normani wobbled over to the seat next to me, while Dinah took the longer route to sit opposite her. Ally was right across from me while Camila made herself comfortable in the chair she dragged, still stubbornly shooting the two idiots with her glare.

I smiled to myself, genuinely pleased to be where I was. I could never tell what changed considering I might have needed a little push - alcohol push - to actually start conversations with people I had just met. No one had ever intrigued me in the the least. Somehow, everyone becomes interesting with alcohol in my bloodstream.

Everything was definitely new to me.

Normally, I would have been restless and I'd feel as if I'd sat on a burner, incinerating my butt and compelling me to just stand up and leave or the damage would be severe. Sometimes, I'd be gracious enough to give them some made up excuses, other times, I just disappear without a word.

My old "friends" would have been so surprised to see me sitting in a group of girls that was bound to be overwhelming me.

"What do you have after lunch, Lauren?" Ally probed, grinning brightly as if she controlled the sun as her warmth radiated with the way she delivered her words.

I rummaged through my bag and yanked a Gregg-ruled notebook out. It was fairly easy to spot the sheet containing my class schedule. The odd gap between the lined leaves were obnoxious enough.

"I have..." I began, opening the piece of neatly folded paper and traced my hand on its surface. "I have free period after lunch."

Grinning, I looked up; both relieved and surprised to find that my first day wasn't as harsh as I initially thought. I actually knew that while in the hallways conversing with my brother but somehow, it had slipped my mind. Then again, it was such a pleasant surprise to find out the second time around.

"Me, too!" Camila merrily announced, propelling her body closer to be in her excitement. "My Friday schedule is my favorite."

My heart just went bananas at the revelation. It was utterly confusing, just thinking about the bliss in my heart. I'd never looked so calm despite the pandemonium I was experiencing within with the close proximity.

I began to breathe deeper at how overworked my organs were; barely keeping up with the demands of my heart.

An hour and a half with Camila sounded like my kind of free time. Getting to know her felt like some kind of an exploit that I would gladly devote my time and attention to...to find a way to her...heart.

Lauren is going crazy. I am going crazy.

"Convenient." Dinah grumbled; huffing as she leaned back in her seat, defeated. "I had to sit through AP Chemistry after a draining Calculus with that crazy little creature." Begrudgingly, she pointed at Camila, who playfully winked at her and stuck her tongue out.

It was her version of revenge and it was endearing.

"Girl, you picked those classes." Normani clarified, eyeing the Polynesian accusingly. "No one forced you to enroll."

"Oh, DJ." Ally let out a light laugh as she observed the exchange among the three girls. "But, Lauren, what's after free period?"

Upon the question, I glanced at the piece of paper once again and smiled at what I saw. I may start liking my Friday classes. Yes, even with Jette and Miss Dubose in the overwhelming mix.

"Music Theory?"

"Us, too!" They excitedly squealed in unison, exchanging high fives and just erupting in cheers. Their voices blended well; seemingly well-acquainted with the variety of tones. Each one had a different role in the weirdly coordinated and synchronized articulation.

"You guys realize what you did, right?" I shot them an inquisitive look, to which the girls nodded vigorously in response.

"We love singing together." Camila announced merrily, shooting me a grin before she reached over to Ally. "She has a garage filled with instruments. We go there a lot."

"You should come join us sometimes!" Ally piped in happily, earning various approvals from the other three girls.

And who was I to turn it down?

What I shared with them was new. It was a change that I never planned but a change that I was willing to adapt to.

Lauren Jauregui may not be a loner anymore.

"Why don't you come and join us later?" Camila suggested enthusiastically, jostling her hand and sweeping my arm in the the process. Her eyes were trained towards Dinah and then the other two girls, who were all smiles and were reinforcing her invitation. "We're going to the beach. I heard a couple of other seniors are going, too."

I held my breath, attempting to overcome another storm with how my skin tingled, heated up with the innocent contact that Camila didn't seem to mind. It was beginning to be a little too ridiculous how my body consistently reacts to her.

But then, a realization slapped me right back to reality - more like, kept my ankles tied to a string that kept me from floating away.

My stomach churned, knowing I had to decline. It felt like my heart was stung by a blasted hornet and instead of swelling up into a bright red, it shattered. And even when my stubborn gut told me to just screw it, screw Jette and just go with my new friends, I felt like I couldn't.

"I can't." Frowning, I bowed my head down to avoid seeing Camila's disappointment. I shrugged, genuinely perplexed as to how my History classmate and I got there. "Jette's coming to my house later to help me catch up with my History class. She just...invited herself or something."

"Janette Zack? Typical." Normani scoffed, exposing her apparently deep disdain for the blonde. "That b-" She caught herself right on time by slapping her hand over her mouth; probably watching her language for me.

"b***h?" I unabashedly echoed as I began to laugh. "You can say it. I don't mind the swearing."

It was probably the funniest that Normani attempted to keep everything child-friendly around me. If she knew me enough, she would have befriended my foul mouth and realize that I'd be the least of her concerns.

Needless to say, the girls were surprised.

Normani let out a cackle as she raised her hand in the air, giving me a high five. There was no way either of us would have been able to speak.

I slapped her hand hurriedly and flopped back down in my seat. I dared to glance at Camila and instantly noticed the tension hovering above her. She looked a little too sullen for my liking and the stiffness of her forehead prompted my shoulders to grow rigid.

I didn't know what to expect but I was bracing for the hardest impact that would displace everything that I know.

"Guys, give her a chance." Camila mumbled, earning everyone's incredulous looks while Normani and Dinah was blatantly watching her as if her she had gone crazy. She didn't seem to approve of the thought of Jette visiting me but she still came to the blonde's defense. "I don't think anyone could turn into something as bad as...that thing...you guys just called her without a reason."

Of course! How could I have allowed myself to forget?

I had been so drunk with Camila's essence that I overlooked the little dispute Jette may have been invested in a little too much. She'd been so worked up that I figured it wasn't just any old altercation between them that made the blonde absolutely abhor my friend. It was that bad that Jette seemed too hasty to spit Camila's name out as if the taste was too bitter to bear.

But why? What could Camila have done to her?

And why was Camila attempting to defend her?

It was a conundrum I would devote my time and attention into solving. There wasn't any reason why I couldn't play female Sherlock Holmes.

Whatever it was, I was a too willing to put blame on the blonde. She may have been somewhat nice to me but there was just something malevolent about Jette. Then again, she could have just been a victim and her bitterness transformed her into the atrocious human being that she is.

I figured it wasn't the time to ask Camila about it. It was delicate enough and I couldn't shatter it with my haste.

That would be insensitive.

"Chancho." Sighing, Dinah began, addressing Camila. Despite the small, tight smile on her lips, she shook her head; discouraging her friend. "She's not a very good person. Ally doesn't even like her and that's Ally we're talking about, she's too nice."

Ally smiled awkwardly, not particularly proud to agree with Dinah. She reached for Camila's hand, squeezing it in consolation.

And still, it wasn't enough to appease Camila. It was time for a diversion. Thankfully, Normani had something in mind.

"Guys, the line is shorter." Normani announced, eyes trained towards the display counters where there were only five students lining up. "Let's go get our food."